I Am Hope
by Salkiethia
Summary: The 'backstory' for BWB. Mokuba wants a younger brother. What's a big brother to do? Especially since his significant other isn't exactly capable of having kids... Implied Prideshipping SETO/YAMI.
1. Mokuba's Question

Okay, so here's the whole story.

**Warnings:** Implied Seto/Yami.  
**Details:** Seto and Yami live together along with Mokuba. Seto and Yami are both 20, Mokuba's 15 and in highschool. Yuugi and co are in various colleges, so there won't be a lot of noise from them, at least at first.

* * *

They awoke to a loud crashing noise downstairs.

"If that's Mokuba, I'm going to kill him," Seto muttered, rolling out of bed and hunting for a bathrobe to cover his mostly bare form.

Violet eyes winked at him in the semi-darkness.

"Over by the bathroom door," the ex-spirit's deep voice suggested, a hint of laughter coloring his words.

He found the robe and slipped into it before wrenching the bedroom door open and going downstairs. In the dimly lit corridor, he checked the time on his watch and groaned. Awake at 3:42 in the morning on a weekend? He _knew_ there was something terribly wrong with the picture.

Once downstairs, he began calling his little brother's name softly into the shadows. No answer in the living room, no light on in the bathroom, nothing in the foyer…

_Dammit, if he woke us up trying to get a snack at four in the morning – _

He checked the kitchen. Nothing. Well, if Mokuba _had_ gotten up to get food, he'd certainly beat a hasty retreat, although Seto couldn't blame him. He was a bear in the morning, and he knew it.

With a wolfish grin to himself, (and knowing he would have avoided himself if he'd ever had the misfortune to wake himself up by stealing food from the kitchen at four a.m.) Seto came back to the bedroom he shared with his dueling rival-turned-lover to find Yami sitting up in bed, waiting for him.

"Was it Mokuba?" he asked.

Seto shook his head wordlessly. The silence demanded an explanation, so he offered one. "Probably, but I didn't catch him at it." Whatever 'it' was.

Yami shook his head, settling back down into the warmth of the pillows and comforter.

"I take it you won't be filleting him, then?"

Seto shook his head again, shrugging off the robe as he did so, then climbing back into bed. Yami's body arched around his, the heat reminding him just how easily he chilled.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

He woke all at once, and sat, puzzled for a moment. Why – ? Oh, yes. The alarm hadn't rung because it was Saturday and Yami had convinced him to take this particular Saturday off. 'Spend some time with Mokuba' had been the exact wording, actually…

"Awake?"

He turned over to see Yami, stretched out, catlike next to him, head propped up on one hand.

"If you want, I can make breakfast today," the violet-eyed duelist offered.

Seto sat up, brushing sleep from his eyes. "Depends what you have in mind."

"Nothing fancy – maybe a trio of omelets. We've got enough random foodstuffs to make three decent ones, I think."

He thought for a moment before nodding. Not that he didn't enjoy the chocolate chip pancakes Yami usually made on Saturdays, or the Cheerios he subsisted on during the week, but…

"Change is good," Yami remarked, rolling out of bed and picking up a pair of shirts interlaced on the floor. The two items found themselves hurled towards a hamper on the other side of the room.

"You missed," Seto observed, already sifting through the closet for something to wear today.

Yami glared and stalked over to the tangled shirts lying sheepishly _just_ in front of the hamper. "You're lucky I can't banish inanimate objects to the Shadow Realm," he tartly informed the shirts. He scooped them up and deposited them in the hamper with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

Seto wriggled into a comfortable, dark green, long-sleeve shirt. The material was very warm. That was good. He _hated_ being cold. The sweatpants he chose to go with the shirt were also green, but more mint colored. No trench coat – Yami hated when he wore them inside.

He adjusted the cuffs on the long-sleeve shirt until they were situated to his liking, then looked up to see Yami buckling the last of his accessories. The ex-spirit had chosen a warm blue sleeveless tee with the faded words _I.M. GAWD_ etched across it. His sweatpants matched Seto's in design, but they were black and a little tighter than the CEO preferred for his own clothing. Silver imitations of Egyptian jewelry decorated Yami's wrists and a set of red and blue studs marched their way up the side of his right ear.

Seto nodded when Yami winked at him, and relaxed a bit. For some reason he was tense – tenser than he had been in a _long_ time. Still, even as he opened the door and let Yami precede him into the hallway of the mansion, he felt a twinge of shame that he had to schedule a day-long appointment with his little brother in order to actually see him…

* * *

"You're never going to win, you know," the teen warned, an amused look in his grey-blue eyes.

"You keep _saying_ that, but I haven't seen you do anything to back it up – _damn!_"

"Oh, haven't I?" Mokuba laughed.

Seto glowered at the video game screen. "You'd think after having _invented_ this game, I might have had a chance to win at it," he growled. He was joking, though, despite his harsh sounding words and surly demeanor, as Mokuba knew.

The CEO growled again before looking back to the couch where Yami casually lay, watching with interest despite the open dueling magazine in his hands.

"Yami, care to challenge the King of Video Games?" Seto asked, rising to his knees and offering the game remote.

Yami paused for a moment, looking to Mokuba for a confirmation of the invitation. At the black-haired teen's eager nod, the ex-spirit dropped the dueling magazine and rolled off the couch to take Seto's place.

Meanwhile, the brunet commandeered the abandoned couch to watch his brother and lover play the video game he had designed.

"Is this your newest one?" Yami asked, fiddling with the control to scroll through choosable characters.

Seto nodded.

The shorter duelist sighed theatrically and turned to Mokuba. "So, what are the rules of _this_ game?"

He leaned over to pick up the dueling magazine while Mokuba launched into an explanation. The part of his mind actually listening to the conversation was fascinated that his younger brother could hold onto so much information. _He's practically got the rule book memorized,_ he mused, _and I haven't even let him see it yet… _

_

* * *

_

"As much as I hate to admit it," Yami said, about a half hour into play, "I think you've got the upper hand, Mokuba. Unless – " he paused to consult the rule book Seto had dragged out specifically for his use.

"It won't work," Seto said, his voice slightly muffled from behind the dueling magazine.

Yami looked up. "What won't work?" he asked.

Without putting the magazine down, Seto listed off approximations of point values and both advantages and disadvantages for the two players. "Mokuba's got you in the exact same situation he had me in right before he beat me," Seto finished, finally putting the magazine down.

Yami looked partly offended, partly amused. "Are you suggesting I can't figure out a way to win where you couldn't?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

Seto shrugged. "I designed the game," he reminded Yami, "and once the players hit a certain point, the outcome is inevitable. What you really need to do is figure out a different strategy for defeating the Cyber Queen on the level before this one. Whenever I use any of my mages on her, I can't win on this level."

Yami's eyes opened wide, impressed.

Mokuba laughed at his awestruck expression. "Does this mean I win, then?" he inquired impishly.

The violet-eyed duelist paused, looking at Seto. "Usually I see everything to the end, but if Seto is right, then it would be a waste of time, when we could be doing something – constructive – instead."

"Constructive?" Mokuba sounded less than eager.

Seto watched his lover tweak his brother's nose.

"Yes, _constructive._ Like, say, lunch. It's already past noon."

The half-frown melted from Mokuba's face to be replaced with a grin. "Okay!"

Seto considered getting up, but couldn't quite summon the energy. Yami came over, a little concern on his face.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine."

"That's not what I asked."

There was no reply for that. He didn't even try to come up with one. Yami frowned slightly at his silence. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Seto nodded. As his lover disappeared into the next room over, he found himself reflecting – a habit that he used to find annoying. Now though, it seemed more like a therapeutic sort of release.

He was twenty – his brother was fifteen. In three more years, Mokuba would leave. In another god-knew-how-many more, he would retire from being CEO. Hopefully, by that point, Mokuba would be ready and willing to run the company. Hopefully too, Yami would still be around. Maybe Mokuba would have a family.

He'd never wanted a family outside the one he already had, really, but he also had to admit that it _might_ be nice to have a niece or nephew. Especially one of Mokuba's.

But maybe Mokuba didn't want a family other than the one he had already, too. In that case –

Seto had finally gotten up and wandered into the kitchen where Yami was heating up the oven for white pizza. Mokuba looked up from the table when Seto came in. Yami's face was a little tight.

"Nii-sama? Can I have a brother?"

* * *

Author's Note: Another Kaiba one, you ask? Well, yeah. I swear, it's not my fault! He's decided to become my personal muse, apparently, and _won't get out of my **head!**_ But that's another story, for another time and place. Much thanks goes to **Lightning Sage** who is doing the beta job for this. 

--Now, yes, I stuck Yami in this story with Kaiba and there isn't any explanation on that either, but this is where I get to say _tough beans!_ and laugh. Nah, not really. I'm not _that_ cruel. Well, mostly not, anyway.  
--The right ear only piercing in males is supposed to mean he's gay. Just random trivia, I guess.  
--About the videogame...Now, I know Yami's King of Games and all that, but I figured that if he messed up before and couldn't rectify the situation, even he would lose. (Like he did to Rafael in the DOMA season with the OC seal.) Anyway, little Mokuba needed an ego boost, so that's how I gave it to him. He got to beat both his brother _and_ the King of Games.


	2. What Passes For Normal

**Disclaimer:** Five dollars isn't enough to buy a decent dinner, let alone an entire animated universe.  
**Warnings:** Light swearing. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

"What?" he managed to get out. 

Mokuba looked a little sheepish. "Well, you and Yami have each other –"

"That's rather a different case," Yami put in, his voice slightly strained. He shot Seto a look, as if apologizing for the disruption of order.

Seto sat down and took a long look at his little brother. Fearlessly, Mokuba's grey-blue eyes met his azure ones. In them he caught a tiny hint of loneliness. Just a fleck, but it was there all the same.

_And what's wrong with getting him a brother?_ Seto found himself wondering. _It'll be like getting a puppy._ Instantly the Mutt came to mind. _Scratch that – it'll be better than a puppy._

"I just want a little brother," Mokuba said, his eyes a bit misty for some reason.

Seto blinked and looked away. Well, it wasn't like they couldn't afford to take care of another kid, and if it would keep Mokuba happy, so be it.

The oven timer dinged, making them all jump. Yami pulled the door open and put the pizzas in. When the door closed, it did so with a snap that made Seto jump again.

"I'll think about it," he said to Mokuba, standing to leave the room.

"Lunch?" Yami asked after him.

He didn't reply. He had some phone calls to make. Obviously he and Yami weren't going to have a kid, so that really only left one option - the same way he and Mokuba had become Gozaburo Kaiba's – adoption.

* * *

The planner had his miniscule, careful scrawl all through its pages. He checked every day carefully, looking for the first opening he'd have in his schedule to go visit an orphanage to pick out a kid. Privately, he was still imagining it like a prospective pet buyer. 

Opening his laptop, Seto pulled up the Internet and searched for orphanages and adoption agencies. He was shocked at the variety. Americas. Australian. Asian. Black. Hispanic. Russian.

Did it make a difference?

_All I need is someone with a decent temperament,_ he decided and closed the laptop. The easiest thing to do would be to walk down the street to the local orphanage and let Mokuba pick out whatever puppy – kid – he wanted.

_As Yami likes to point out, if I did things the simple, easy way, I wouldn't be Seto Kaiba._ No, if he was going to play the philanthropist, he was going to do it with style.

Again the calendar came out. He flipped purposefully to the month of June and double checked July. June was full, but July… The thirteenth of July was a Saturday.

Seto picked up the phone book and the phone. There were some calls he really needed to make now.

* * *

Yami watched Seto disappear and grimaced. "I don't suppose there was a more graceful way to ask?" he remarked offhandedly to Mokuba. 

The teen sighed and shook his head. "You know Nii-sama – subtle goes right over his head in anything that doesn't involve either KaibaCorp or Duel Monsters."

"Well," the ex-spirit commented, looking out of the kitchen to the hallway, "at least he didn't have a heart attack and drop dead. He's been looking a little peaky – I think he may be coming down with something."

Mokuba made a face. "Nii-sama's too refined to die of shock," he retorted. "And all other germs know to steer clear."

Yami pulled the finished pizzas out of the oven and cut them up, casting another lingering glance at the hallway.

"He's not going to come down until he's reached a decision," Mokuba pointed out. "We can just eat lunch – I'm starving!" He attacked the pizza Yami laid before him with gusto, polishing off the whole thing before the ex-spirit had even made a significant dent in his first slice.

He just wasn't hungry – not like this. For another few minutes he fretted, oblivious to Mokuba eying his plate appraisingly. When he stood up to get a drink of water, he returned to an empty plate without noticing a difference.

Then Seto came back down the stairs, through the hall and into the kitchen. He was holding a phone – one of the black and silver handsets from his upstairs office. A slight crease made him appear to be glowering, though in reality this was his 'thoughtful' face.

"Nii-sama?"

At the endearment, he smiled a bit at Mokuba, reaching down to ruffle the black hair. "Still want a little brother?" he asked.

Mokuba, wide-eyed, nodded vigorously.

"It'll take a bit of patience, but if that's really what you want…" Seto trailed off, seeing the insane look of happiness on his younger brother's face. "Think you can wait until July?"

He had half expected the black-haired teen's face to fall, but instead a determined look passed over it. "I can wait," Mokuba announced. "Thank you, Nii-sama."

Seto nodded, and watched, bemused as Mokuba scooped up three empty plates and deposited them in the dishwasher before leaving the kitchen entirely.

He watched him go before sinking down into a chair and setting the phone down on the tabletop. Yami came around behind him, gently massaging at tense muscles lurking below the skin's surface.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"If it's for Mokuba, I am."

"He's that lonely?"

He nodded.

"I don't understand why." Yami hit a particularly tight knot and Seto hissed. "Sorry," the ex-spirit apologized. Then, "But why can't he hang out with Yuugi-tachi? They don't mind him."

Seto twisted a little to fix his lover with one blue eye. "The friendship gang isn't the answer to every problem in life. None of them are in high school anymore, Yami. Even if Mokuba wanted to 'hang out', I bet they barely have time for each other."

He felt Yami flinch slightly and was instantly contrite. Ever since Yuugi went away to college, the ex-spirit had been rather touchy on the subject. At the reminder that Yuugi no longer had enough time even to see old friends, something seemed to go out of him.

"Shit, Yami, I'm sorry," Seto said, twisting out of the seat to wrap his arms around the shorter duelist and pull him into a comforting hug. "I didn't mean it like that. I just – oh hell. I'm not thinking clearly."

Yami smiled faintly at him. "I've noticed," he commented.

"I've been that much of an ass?"

"No, but you seem more absorbed in your own thoughts." He paused, searching for a word. "More intense."

Seto smiled faintly. Trust Yami to take what could be considered an insult and transform it into a twisted compliment. "Thanks, I think," he drawled, extending the vowels in a parody of his normal speech pattern.

"Really though," Yami said, disentangling the two of them, "I don't know how wise this will be…"

Seto shrugged, slightly uncomfortable. "He's lonely," he reiterated. "I'm not able to be around as often as I should be – " He looked down to meet Yami's eyes. The blue violet orbs reflected concern and understanding. He let their heat warm him, staring into pools of liquid fire…

"Nii-sama?" It was Mokuba, poking his head into the kitchen.

"Hm?"

"When you're done thinking up bad poetry, wanna play another game?"

Seto flushed slightly but nodded. "As long as it's not another video game," he amended.

"Nah – I was thinking Risk. I feel like taking over the world." Mokuba laughed when Yami's eyes went wide. "Not like _that_!" he exclaimed.

Yami muttered something that sounded an awful lot like "Bakura" and "corrupting influences".

Seto grinned. "And this way, you won't have an unfair advantage."

His brother's eyes grew wide with innocence. It wasn't feigned – well, not completely.

"Yes, you," he growled, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you can practically recite the rulebook for all the videogames in the house." He lifted an eyebrow. "And without even having read most of them."

"That's hardly an 'unfair advantage'," Yami argued, a smile laughing in his eyes despite the deadly serious expression.

"It is when _I_ can't remember half the damn rules myself," Seto growled. He lurched forward and almost caught Mokuba, just as the black-haired teen jumped back and ran, laughing out of the room. Seto followed. Yami settled himself down in an empty chair, shaking his head over the underlying craziness present in the Kaiba mansion.

A few moments later, his musings were interrupted when Mokuba dashed back into the kitchen - and then out again, followed seconds later by a ruffled-looking CEO.

He glared at Yami accusingly. "You let him have caffeine again, didn't you?" but there was still a smile in his eyes, so despite the harsh-sounding words, it was still just playful banter.

Mokuba reappeared at the door before Yami could retort. "Nii-sama," he remarked, a little too casually, "you're getting a bit slow, aren't you?" He dove out of the way with a yelp, barely a nanosecond after Seto launched himself forward again.

Yami settled in. After all, for the Kaiba brothers, this was normal.

"I challenge you to a game of world domination!" rang out through the hallways in Mokuba's voice. "And Yami too!"

The ex-spirit levered himself out of the chair.

Maybe 'almost normal' was a better description.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm skipping class to write this. I'm a bad person. If you're skipping class to read this, good for you! Major thanks to beta **Lightning Sage**, both for putting up with me and for the corrections. 

--I figure that if Seto's not a real people person, he's not going to look at life the same way, as say, Yuugi and co. So, to make it a little more obvious just how much out of the loop he seems to be, he's seeing adoption as picking out a dog. A lot of people regard it that way, which isn't really a good thing.  
--I'm not a mpreg fan, so that's why Seto's doing this the hard way. Plus, it wouldn't be quite as much fun waiting for one of the two lovers to have a kid and then have to raise it. Nah, picking a problematic child out of a whole bunch of them is much more interesting, I think. Plus, they come hardwired with difficulties already! No installation required.  
--Mokuba strikes me as the type of kid who would love to play Risk. The thing has got _so many_ rules and twists in it that I don't even bother playing by set rules anymore. Plus, when he yells his challenge it sounds rather funny, especially with Yami tacked on at the end.


	3. Conquering the World in an Afternoon

**Disclaimer:** Does the cardboard box mean _anything_ to you people?  
**Warnings:** Attempted world take-over, poor cooking technique, exploding eggs. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

Conquering the World in an Afternoon 

"Which color do you want, Nii-sama?" Mokuba was holding out the red and yellow boxes of pieces. Yami had selected blue and Mokuba had chosen the grey for himself. There were also black and green boxes, but the black was missing a few infantrymen and the teen had declared the green too ugly to play with.

"Doesn't matter."

Mokuba deposited the red box in front of him and grabbed the cards. Seto watched Yami watching his little brother, violet eyes wide in frank fascination as the black-haired teen divided the deck into three even piles.

"Take one, Yami," he urged.

Yami scrutinized each pile carefully, as if attempting to read each card through the top one. Finally he settled on the far right pile. Mokuba grabbed what had been the center pile, leaving Seto with the far left.

Silently, they placed their infantry pieces. Seto couldn't help but notice Yami already controlled Africa and Europe as well as part of North America. He noted with satisfaction that although he didn't control a full continent yet, he was perfectly poised to build a power base in Australia and root out Mokuba's grey pieces, giving access to Asia. Following that strategy, he put all his force into Australia except for a few select infantrymen that he deposited in Brazil, just to keep things interesting.

"Who's going first?" Yami asked, eying the dice sitting innocently near Mokuba.

"We roll for it," Seto explained, and snagged one of the red attack die to offer Yami. His lover took it and rolled, along with Seto and Mokuba.

Seto rolled a six, Yami a two and Mokuba a three.

"My move," the brunette announced, smirking a bit. "I declare war on the eastern half of Australia from the western half."

Mokuba's eyes went wide. He only had two measly pieces there while Seto's conquering force was built of twenty-odd companies of fighters.

"Um, I defend with two," he decided, picking up the pair of white dice while Seto brandished the three red ones fiercely.

The two of them rolled. Seto's triple roll easily defeated Mokuba's double. "Crap," the young teen growled, picking up his defeated troops and returning them to the safe haven of his box.

Seto eyed Siam closely. Did he want to attack? He could move reinforcements at the end of the turn… In the end, he attacked and lost six armies defeating the three cloistered there. Finally, he won control of the country, ended his turn and fortified his defenses before collecting a risk card. Not a bad turn.

Then it was Yami's turn. The ex-spirit had placed his own Risk pieces much more evenly over the board. Every country bearing blue carried at least two armies. For a moment, he studied the board, then declared in his deep voice, "I am attacking the Middle East from Egypt."

Mokuba made a face. "You two are teaming up on me!" he growled, reaching for one die to defend with. "Seto learned the hard way I don't give up my places without a fight, and so will you!"

The two cast their dice. Yami and Mokuba both had rolled fives. Mokuba punched the air in triumph. "Defender wins!"

Yami removed a single army from his Egyptian territory. "Egypt, attack again," he rumbled.

Again they rolled. Egypt lost again. Mokuba stuck his tongue out at Yami. The ex-spirit imitated him, drawing an amused look from Seto.

"Are you finished?" he asked.

Yami glanced at the game board. "I believe I am," he sighed.

Mokuba was all too happy to relieve him of the dice and immediately declared an attack on Scandinavia from one of the neighboring Asian countries.

He felt oddly detached as he watched his little brother sweep into Europe to destroy Yami's hold over the violet-purple continent. Then turns switched and it was his turn to add armies and attack. Originally, he'd planned on going straight north, but Mokuba's warring with Yami had left an easy path through Asia over to Africa. Seto opted for that pathway, and about twenty rolls later had achieved his goal. True, he'd lost a good third of his armies on the travel over, but now he controlled all of Australia and a path directly to Egypt. As long as neither Yami nor Mokuba could break his supply line, he'd be unstoppable. Just to make sure nothing strange could happen to that all-important line, Seto sent back a few armies to strengthen it. Perfect. He turned over the dice to Yami, feeling confident.

* * *

"I'm attacking your puny country from my bigger, stronger one!" Seto declared, waving the red dice enthusiastically as he did so. 

Most of the countries on the Risk board had reasonably pronounceable names – but some were just crazy. He was attacking from one such country, and all three players had decided that (to spare their sanity) pointing would serve to indicate who was attacking whom and where. Eventually, the players had degenerated into pointing rather than declaring - except for Yami, who had given _his_ countries nicknames.

"You dare attack my Fluff-Bunny nation?" he roared theatrically, scooping up the white defending dice. "You shall pay the price for your folly!"

Mokuba pulled his hands off his ears. "You're doing it again," he grumbled.

Seto blinked sheepishly. Whenever he really got into a competition, he had a tendency to revert to his dueling voice, along with the volume that accompanied it. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Yami, to whom the remark had _actually_ been directed, leaned back a little on his haunches, studying the board. Mokuba had chased him out of Europe, but he controlled all of Africa and had a heavy power base in both North America and Asia, preventing full continential takeover. If Seto's attack succeeded, it wouldn't damage his lines too badly.

The CEO raised the dice. In a stage whisper, he declared, "This is an attack directed at Fluff-Bunny, originating from Carrot Top Inc. We fight for the freedom of vegetables everywhere!" He and Yami both cast their dice.

"I guess the Fluff-Bunny nation doesn't agree with being taken over," his lover suggested mildly, poking the triple one roll Seto had managed.

The brunette snarled and grabbed the dice, picking off a pair of infantry from his attacking nation. "Again."

They rolled again and this time he fared slightly better. Instead of losing two, they both lost one.

"Again."

Mokuba stood up. "Anyone want anything to eat?" he asked, edging towards the kitchen.

"Nope," Seto and Yami replied simultaneously. They grinned at each other. Or, rather, Yami grinned while Seto smirked in a self-satisfied way.

"Again," he growled and cast the final roll, taking out the remaining defenders of Yami's precious Fluff-Bunny nation.

"You have just destroyed my Fluff-Bunnies, and for that you will pay!"

"Oh, please. I blew a hole right through your supply line. Unless you armies are digging tunnels with spoons, your lines aren't connected anymore." Seto reached for another Risk card, handing off the dice.

Yami studied the board. Slowly, he began to smile, and set down all ten of his new infantry in Egypt. "That's where you're wrong. I've _still_ got connecting lines," he corrected.

Seto frowned. "No, you don't."

The shorter duelist grinned and called into the kitchen, "Mokuba! I'm attacking your –" he lifted up the two infantry to check the country's name. "I'm attacking Great Britain from Greenland."

Mokuba poked his head out of the kitchen. "Seto, can you roll defense for me?" he asked, holding a butter knife in one hand and a jar of preservatives in the other.

"What are you doing?" Seto asked, hand inching towards the white dice.

Something exploded in the kitchen. Mokuba whipped around, a swear word escaping his lips as he dashed back in. Yami and Seto leaped up and charged into the kitchen.

It was a mess. The explosion had presumably been the egg that now dotted the ceiling. Chopped vegetables littered the cutting board countertop. Bread soaking with something was growling on the third pan on the stove.

Seto lifted an eyebrow as Yami dove for the stove, rescuing the pan with soggy bread slices before their menacing crackling could turn into another explosion.

"What exactly were you doing?" he asked his little brother.

"Um, making food?"

A piece of egg dropped from the ceiling.

"You have an odd way of going about it," Yami commented, licking a finger.

"Did you burn yourself?"

He shook his head. "No, but whatever Mokuba soaked the bread in tastes good."

Mokuba flushed slightly. "Sugar and milk," he mumbled.

Seto frowned and moved over to the pan to stick his own finger in the swiftly cooling goo. It was sticky and congealing on the bread so that it resembled frosting. He tasted it. A bit sugary sweet, but he supposed it was okay –

"You put vanilla in this too, didn't you?" Yami asked, licking another generous glob of it off his fingers.

"How – ?"

"You left the bottle open on the counter over there," Yami answered, smirking. "And I am possessed of the trait of observance."

Mokuba nodded a bit. Then, he looked up at Seto, his grey-blue eyes a touch wider than usual. "Are you mad, Nii-sama?"

Seto stared into his younger brother's eyes for a moment, then sighed. "I would be, with anyone else," he told his brother. "Somehow, I can't stay upset with you."

Yami wrapped an arm companionably around Mokuba's shoulder as he surveyed the damage to the kitchen. "Well, cleaning this up won't take too long, and then we can finish taking over the world."

"I think you mean _I_ can finish taking over the world," Seto argued, bending over to wipe up egg off of the floor with a wet dish rag he'd retrieved from the counter.

The ex-spirit wore a feral grin as he replied, "Not if you plan on finishing the Dioscin Project on time. Now _Mokuba_ and I, we've got all afternoon."

Seto swore descriptively and colorfully before turning to his younger brother. "Mokuba, whatever you do, don't let Yami take over the world. One colony of Fluff-Bunnies was enough."

* * *

Author's Note: Whoot! The first time I've made it off three pages, typed. Although...this one's only three pages and ten lines. Oh well, still broke the barrier, right? Muchly thanks to **Lightning Sage**, the awesome beta keeping my head attached to my shoulders. 

--I like the game of Risk, which is why it features so prominently in comparison to the videogame of two chapters ago. I also have trouble pronouncing some of the country names, so I decided to do with these cherries what I do at home - they either resort to pointing (Seto and Mokuba) or come up with their own names (Yami). I've never had a Fluff-Bunny colony, but it seemed ridiculous enough to let Yami have them, so...yeah.  
--I seriously considered playing out a game of Risk to decide how the game would really play out between these three, but in hindsight, I'm glad I didn't. Dragging out the rulebook and setting up a few colonies myself was easy enough to do, timewise, and required little to no thought.  
--The Dioscin Project: Now if I told you, it'd spoil the suprise, wouldn't it?


	4. Dreams

**Disclaimer:** I've placed a bid on Ebay. They haven't gotten back to me yet. Hopefully raw eggs are enough for the purchase.  
**Warnings:** Twisted minds, lots of page breaks, bad poetry. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

His office was silent. There were papers, all neatly stacked and placed in color-coded folders. It didn't even feel like he was home. This office had the same sparse furnishings as his office at KaibaCorp. A desk, a chair, two sets of fire cabinets and the all-important laptop. The room was even soundproofed, meant to prevent any sort of distraction. 

_I can't believe I almost forgot about the Dioscin Project…_ he growled to himself. _I planned on taking at least half of today to work on it. Risk must have distracted me. Damn game._ The young CEO flopped down inelegantly into the chair, flipped open the laptop and dove back into his work.

_Where did I put those charts? _

_

* * *

_

The phone rang. Without breaking his typing, Seto switched to single-hand mode and turned the phone to speaker.

"Seto Kaiba speaking. Who is this?" he half-asked, half-demanded, returning his hand to the keyboard, staring at the screen.

"Hi, Nii-sama!" Mokuba's voice jerked him out of his work.

"Mokuba –"

"Seto, we were wondering if you'd consider coming downstairs to have dinner now," Yami's authoritative voice cut in.

He glanced at his watch. Had it really been six hours since he'd shut himself up in this room? The Dioscin Project was nearly finished. Maybe another half-hour or so to put the final touches on it.

"I'll be right down."

* * *

Mokuba and Yami were sitting at the table when he walked in, eating Chinese takeout. From the looks of it, Mokuba had given up using chopsticks and was digging into the Mushu enthusiastically with his fingers. Yami, much more dignified, patiently fought with the cheap wooden chopsticks, pulling single noodles out of his lo mein.

Seto sat in the chair next to his younger brother, pulling a plate of white rice towards himself.

"Did you finish it?"

He shook his head. "It's almost done. Maybe another half-hour or so."

Yami frowned. Generally speaking, Seto's perception of time left something to be desired. "Will you finish it tonight?"

"Probably not. I don't plan on it taking all of tomorrow, though," he added at the look his lover gave him. "I'll finish it before noon, I promise."

The violet-eyed duelist nodded. That was the best concession he could hope for, under the circumstances.

Mokuba yawned hugely, drawing attention to himself. "What time is it?" he inquired sleepily.

Seto checked his watch. "Seven-forty," he reported, and watched in amusement as his teen brother attempted to be more awake. Through the rest of dinner, the teen only yawned another dozen times.

* * *

Yami followed behind him up the stairs as he carried Mokuba's sleeping form in his arms. At the landing he turned right; Yami went left. The door to Mokuba's room was partially open. With a nudge from his foot, it swung further inward.

A maze of video games littered the floor, accompanied by crumpled clothing stacked in a pile by the closet door. Seto navigated the confusion slowly, making his way towards the made-up bed that looked so out of place in such a messy room. He laid his brother's sleeping form down gently. The slight movement roused Mokuba and he smiled a bit, his face sleep-fogged.

"Good night, Mokuba," Seto whispered, pulling the blankets up around his little brother.

Sleepily, Mokuba mumbled, "'Night, Nii-sama."

He paused at the door, looking back to see his little brother's face lit up with a content smile, deep in the throes already. Only then did he leave, pulling the door almost shut behind him. But not all the way. Never all the way.

Feeling ancient, he slowly migrated to the other side of the hallway, to his room where Yami was waiting. "He's asleep," the brunette said, rather unnecessarily, considering Mokuba's condition as he carried him up the stairs.

Yami nodded and came around to Seto, wrapping his arms around the taller duelist, looking up so their eyes met. "You look like you're getting sick," he observed, running a hand gently along the other's back.

Seto grunted in reply. He returned the hub, albeit not quite as tightly. He blinked slowly, letting himself finally begin to really relax. Yami's face was tilted up towards him. Lightly, he brushed a strand of golden-blond hair out of the way, followed by a gentle kiss to the lips. Yami didn't cling to him when he let go either, for which he was grateful. Too many nights he woke up in a cold sweat, feeling the certainty of chains ebbing slowly away, but never quite gone. No more bonds. At least he had someone who understood.

Yami led him back to the bed and pushed him down into it. "Go to sleep, Seto," he commanded, his soft, deep voice inducing a strange new level of consciousness.

Sleep. Sleep sounded good… He faded away into the dreams, welcoming them, if not with open arms, then with the certainty of _knowing_ exactly what it was he was going to face. No thought required. He knew the steps to this dance by heart. Only the tempo differed.

What would tonight be?

Lapsing back into a semi-reality, he found out himself.

* * *

A hand shaking his shoulder pulled him out of the chains, melting them with the supernatural force of reality over dreams. He came up, gasping for air, eyes dilated to their fullest extent, barely any blue showing at all in the darkness. Softly glowing purple eyes met his, reassuring and calm. The litany that had called him back repeated itself, shaping nothings into a belief system. Logic circled around illogic in the form of a religious vocation. Alive – awake, _safe._

He didn't say anything to the violet eyes – didn't need to, because both of them knew, and a mutual understanding existed. The violet vanished, reappearing so quickly it was nearly impossible to believe they had left at all. His own eyes felt heavy. The depths of sleep were calling again, and this time there was no face down card to spring by accident. With a regretful sigh at leaving consciousness once more, he sank back into the pits of his own mind.

* * *

In some remote corner of his mind, he knew that he was dreaming. All things were possible with the simple stretching of the imagination, an exertion of willpower he simply didn't have – not in this state.

The possibility of _anything_ destroyed rational thought, linked to existence. Anything was possible, and in reflection, nothing was.

He followed the linked, red carpet pathways, rolled out in twisting, aimless patterns that lead everywhere. Anywhere. Anyplace. They took him, tenderly at first, then violently, twining in the mad throes of a dying animal. There was pain, cutting through the rational, approaching whatever apocalypse belonged in this sick universe.

He was grounded, held in place with entrapments of steel and silver wire. Not the chains – never again the chains. Lightning struck, flashing out of the ground, wrapping itself around the inverted cross section, sending tingling jolts up through him.

Shifting scenes played out, drawing out the dragons – all the dragons. Magnificent Blue-Eyes cowered away, the three brothers, pulling back as one.

_What is it?_

In the peculiar way dreams have of telling too much without actually revealing anything, he felt the presence of two _somethings_ at his back. The knowledge that if he turned around, he would see his end kept him from actually moving. Caught between the floorboards – stuck, but not actually falling. Not yet – his mind didn't know what the hell of fire and brimstone actually was. If he fell, if he turned, he'd wake.

He fell.

* * *

_Damn dreams_. Sitting up in bed, Seto rubbed at his eyes, brushing away the dregs of sleep. The room was still dark, and the glowing clock in the corner boasted that it was one in the morning. He growled something softly at the clock and closed his eyes again, unwilling to sacrifice a night of sleep, or even only a few hours. It simply would not happen.

He shut his eyes, determined to force his body back to sleep, but his body refused to obey, protesting by awakening more fully than before. Even his eyes had worked their way open. Snarling silently, he rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Yami. If he couldn't sleep –

* * *

"Seto, what are you doing up?"

The voice came from nowhere, making him jump a little in surprise. He turned to see Yami, a thick bathrobe wrapped around his lover's lithe body.

He didn't trust words to his voice, shrugging instead, without meeting Yami's eyes.

The other slid down onto the couch next to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders loosely. Thank the gods it was loosely. Chains – too many of them, reminders of the physical bonds of the world.

He barely noticed that Yami was crooning something softly too him. An ancient Egyptian lullaby, only half-remembered consciousness at best.

_The night is drawing in her cloak  
The Nile carefree flows  
Desert sands, the breath of he will keep  
The lover to whom the goddess goes  
Dream on my sleeping child  
For when the sun begins to rise  
Across the sky in a golden chariot  
The gods favor you with their eyes  
Sing on my darling  
As the golden world begins to shine  
No matter the sands, no matter the sun  
Through the gods you are forever mine _

Then the melody changed, no longer sweet but with a tinge of desperate longing to it.

_Hush now my baby, be still now, don't cry. Sleep as you're rocked by the stream. Sleep and remember my last lullaby, so I'll be with you when you dream. River, oh river, flow gently for me. Such precious cargo you bear. Do you know somewhere he can be free? With love, deliver him there…_

* * *

Author's Note: I tried to make this chapter a more smooth one. The dreaming sequence is a tad surreal, and that's the real feel I was going for. I hope it worked. I'm not sure I'm happy with how it turned out. 

--The first poem/song lyrics I wrote myself. The second are from _The Prince of Egypt_ and sung by Ofra Haza. I adore that movie. So, copyright where copyright is due, and the disclaimer for that song is here. I don't own it! Didn't mean I could resist putting it in!


	5. In Silence We Wait

**Disclaimer:** All of 'em are borrowed. I promise to return them in working condition when I'm through playing.  
**Warnings:** Language, slight plotlessness, broken cup. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

Heawoke slowly, wondering why his body felt so sore. A cramp in his neck forced measured movements. A heavy weight on his chest – no, not a weight. That was Yami.

Sunlight spilled through the open windows; maybe that had been what had woken him. _Sunlight – oh shit! What time is it?_ He didn't _quite _push Yami off of him, but his sudden tension and movement certainly woke the other.

Violet eyes met his, and their owner pulled back, blinking rapidly and stifling a yawn behind his hand. "G'morning," Yami slurred.

Seto grunted and levered the awakened duelist off himself, long enough to stand and redeposit him on the couch. "What time is it?" He'd left his watch upstairs, but Yami _always_ slept with one.

"Three after eight," his lover answered, stretching.

Seto managed to relax a little. His first appointment wasn't until eleven – he still had enough time to raid the kitchen for caffeine and even see his brother before leaving… _No, I can't,_ he realized. _I still have to finish the Dioscin. Dammit, I should have finished it last night!_

"Seto, calm down. You still have two and half hours at least."

He growled a reply. No use explaining that he _needed_ to finish this, even though the deadline wasn't for another two months. Yami didn't say anything when he stalked out of the living room into the kitchen, tearing it apart in his caffeine quest. After waiting five minutes for an acceptable coffee to brew, he couldn't stand it anymore and simply poured the weak (in his opinion) liquid into a cup, downing it all at once. That took the edge off his addiction, at least, making it possible to wait for the rest of the coffee to properly filter for an acceptable-tasting morning drink.

Yami came in, fully dressed about the time he finished pouring his second cup. Neither said anything, though Yami looked like he dearly wanted to. Seto ignored him in favor of dumping the rest of the acid-brew into a thermos and stalking back upstairs to attack what was left of the project.

_This had better not take too long… _

_Twenty incompetent idiots working together on this seem to manage to move it _backwards_ somehow. At least I know I'm competent. And I know I won't screw things up. Dammit, where is the heading for this? I wonder if Yami's making dinner again. Where did those files go? Mislabeled again, I bet. Lasagna would be nice. Shit, these people are stupid._

He growled at the laptop screen when it decided to take a little longer than usual to end one of his programs. A tap on the door – very faint because of the soundproofing – drew him out of his own world, where employees were the fodder for the fires of hell.

"What?" Seto barked irritably, jerking the door open. "Oh."

Yami was standing outside, hand upraised and ready to attack the door with another vicious knock. "It's nearly ten. Are you finished? I know you've got somewhere to be soon."

Seto let the snarl fade off his face. "Nearly."

"You said that last night."

"Almost finished."

"How is that different from 'nearly'?"

"It isn't."

Yami threw his hands up in the air and walked off, muttering something unintelligible. Seto thought he could guess what it was about; CEOs that were too brilliant for their own – and these were Yami's word's, not his – damn good.

Seto had time for a brief, mirthless chuckle before returning to his laptop, shutting it off and returning the damned piece of technology to his briefcase. He checked his watch. There wasn't much time if he wanted to make himself presentable and arrive at his office early enough to make an impression. Sighing, at the thought of all the work time he'd lost by accidentally oversleeping, the young CEO dragged himself to the bathroom, showered and set about selecting the perfect outfit for his business meeting.

A pair of black dress pants went well with the black leather shoes he'd had delivered a few weeks ago, and the plain, off-white, cream-tone button-up shirt complimentedthe pantsnicely as well. The silver and black tie Yami had given him as a New Year's present found itself neatly arranged and tied about his neck. Unruly chocolate hair quickly discovered the law of the brush. Within moments, he looked as collected as ever.

No trench coat – business matters were too important for personal comfort. Instead, he snagged the matching top half suit jacket to go with the black slacks.

He frowned at the mirror. It looked sleek. Elegant, even. Time to go.

With his briefcase in one hand, Seto abandoned the room, dragging the door shut behind him.

Yami was in the kitchen staring morosely at the counter, all the fire seeming to have abandoned him. Seto would have worried if he hadn't known how pensive his lover could become at times.

"I'm leaving."

The violet eyes came to meet his. Yami didn't say anything, but Seto put down the briefcase long enough to give a quick hug and a light peck on the lips. Yami smiled a bit, and a hint of the aggressive energy his dueling was known for appeared in the flickering motion of his lips. Then Seto vanished out the door, taking his briefcase and that air of absolute certainty with him.

* * *

It was early for him, but for normal people, returning home at eleven-thirty could hardly be considered 'early'. Not eleven-thirty at night, anyway.

Yami was waiting up for him, wrapped in the same robe he'd worn earlier that morning. Wordlessly, the violet-eyed duelist offered Seto a cup of something. Just as silently, he accepted it. It turned out to be some sort of blended tea – raspberry with a touch of lemon, perhaps. Gratefully, he drank it, relishing the heat even as it burned its way down his throat.

The silence stretched until it became faintly uncomfortable. When Seto would have just brushed by Yami and trudged upstairs, the ex-spirit's hands came to capture his wrists.

_At least the cup was empty,_ he thought, distracted when the cup he'd been holding rolled out of limp fingers to shatter on the floor.

Yami didn't say anything, but for some reason, his sheer silence burned more than any accusation he could have made. And how could Seto have replied, anyway?

The two of them dropped together, hands still entangled while they sought to clear up the ruined shards of porcelain.

A red flower blossomed from Yami's palm where a shard had caught – dug in too deep. With gentle care, Seto dragged it out, only a moment later getting a piece of the same lodged in his own.

Yami's gentle hand lifted his, a slight smile playing over his face when he drew the sliver out of the pad of Seto's thumb.

The hopelessness of the shards smeared across the kitchen floor began to sink in and Seto leaned into Yami, letting the other's strength become his own for a short while.

Just for the moment, because that was enough. Then he was on his feet again, carefully stepping over the shards littered across the floor. Somehow.

A shake of his head dissuaded Yami from cleaning them up. _Leave it_, his look said. _It isn't worth it._

* * *

Author's Note: This was a difficult chapter to write. It doesn't seem to really go anywhere, and I know that. Sorry, I guess. Next chapter should move things along a bit. Really, this was only supposed to be an insight to Yami and Seto's characters as they're portrayed in this story. Nothing more. Thanks to beta **Lighting Sage** for cleaning up the drawing pad of my writing.

--I've always seen Yami as being Seto's true source of strength once they're together. I have no hand for throwing them together, but once they are tangled, it's like alloyed metal - together they're stronger. Of course, Seto being the stubborn man he is, probably wouldn't accept the help that entwined nature offers too frequently. This was just a way to pull out some of Seto's more vunerable side. Relatively pleased with how it turned out.  
--The adoption is coming up eventually, but as Seto told Mokuba a couple chapters ago, there must be patience. It's not until July 13th. But that's what time warps are for, right?


	6. Monday's Failure

**Disclaimer:** Legal stuff in previous chapters. I'm too lazy to rewrite it.  
**Warnings:** Language, ungodly amounts of coffee, success and failure. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

He rose before the dawn, before the birds. In the false dawn of the early morning hours, he slipped upstairs and forced himself through the rest of the project.

When it finally was finished, Seto slumped, feeling defeated despite what many would consider his greatest accomplishment. The fatigue he had forced his body to ignore up until this point finally pushed its way past even his barriers. If he'd been standing, his legs might have simply given out from under him.

_I need coffee. I need _caffeine._ Dammit. _

Seto forced himself up to his feet, unsteady at first, but still able to stand. Then they gave out from under him, letting his body collapse in a heap.

_Great. Now what?_ he growled in his thoughts. _I'm _not_ calling Yami. Imagine _that_ conversation: Hi, can you come rescue me from my office? Overwork and malnutrition finally seem to have caught up with me. Thanks!_ No, he would figure some Kaiba-esque way to depend on no one, and work his way down the stairs to the almighty god known as coffee.

Even if he had to roll the whole way there.

* * *

Rolling wasn't _quite_ necessary, though Seto _did_ find himself on his knees a time or three on his way down the stairs. It just added to his stubbornness.

When he finally reached the kitchen, Mokuba and Yami were already up. Mokuba was feasting on an overflowing bowl of Cheerios while Yami idly fished handfuls of the dry cereal out of the box to munch on. He was reading the morning paper, Seto noticed, leaning over his lover's shoulder to pull a bowl out of one of the cabinets.

From the other side of the kitchen, Mokuba called, "Heads up, Nii-sama!"

The warning came just soon enough for Seto to turn and fling out a hand to stop the projectile moving towards his face. By accident, he ended up actually catching it, and was glad he had.

"Was there any reason to throw a spoon at me?" he asked, borrowing the Cheerio box from Yami long enough to pour a bowl of it. "I was coming to sit down anyway," he added, snagging a cup of coffee as he passed by the pot on the counter.

The teen shrugged, brushing untidy black hair out of his face as he did so. "I wanted to see if you were really awake, Seto," was all the justification he offered.

Seto grumbled as he sat down. "There were better ways of checking," he muttered.

Yami pulled up a chair as well, sitting down comfortably at the table. "Anything interesting happening in school today?" he inquired.

The teen grimaced. "It's not interesting, but it _is_ annoying," he complained. "We've got guest speakers for three of my classes. They just drone on and _on._"

"Always about nothing?" Yami asked sympathetically.

Seto watched the exchange in interest. Usually, he was gone before these two were up eating breakfast. Today he could have been gone if it hadn't been for the damn project. At least _that_ was over and done with, though. He could focus on more important matters now.

Things like that puppy – no, _brother_ – Mokuba had expressed an interest in. Maybe he and Yami could go someplace too, now that he thought of it. If he recalled correctly, his lover had Monday afternoons, Wednesday mornings and all of Fridays off from work…

" – and _then_ she got mad about it!" Mokuba finished complaining, dragging Seto out of his inner musings long enough to catch the tail end of his brother's speech.

Yami clucked disapprovingly at whatever the story had been about.

"Could you just Mind Crush her?" Mokuba begged.

Seto instantly opened his mouth to reprimand his little brother for making such a callous statement, but Yami began to chuckle, so instead he frowned and poked at the Cheerios floating in the excess milk of his cereal bowl.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, even for you," he replied, eyes twinkling in mischief. Seto watched in curiosity.

_"However,_" Yami added, shooting Seto a look that was half demonic smile, half ingenious plan, "I'm sure we can think of _some_thing."

Mokuba grinned at that. "I'll let you figure out the details then. Um…" He cast a glance at Seto, seeming to be unsure of what exactly to _do_ with his older brother still home.

Seto could feel the slight tension and uncertainty; he stood up, feeling more awake with coffee infiltrating his bloodstream. He set the mostly empty cereal bowl on the kitchen counter and said goodbye to both Yami and Mokuba. It hurt, seeing the half-relieved look in his younger brother's eyes.

_If we're not competing against one another or together against someone else, we don't know how to act around each other anymore,_ he realized. He knew it was his fault. His fault for staying late at work, getting up early, disappearing over weekends –

He'd always be around if Mokuba _really_ need him, but it seemed as of late, he was less and less available for simply being_ there._ That lack of connection was beginning to show, too. Once upon a time, he would have known all the details of his brother's schedule and every person he had a grievance with. Not so much anymore. Where had that easy familiarity gone to?

Then the thought came, _Is _this_ why he wants a brother?_ It was all he could do to start the car and begin the slow drive to work instead of running back inside to demand an explanation.

The whole way to the KaibaCorp building, a mantra rang in his head, through caffeinated blood: _weakWeakWEAK._

He ran a red light. There was no one coming anyway, and the stupid voice wouldn't get out of his head.

_weakWeakWEAK

* * *

_

Presentable at last, Seto steeled himself for what could arguably be the biggest step in his career. The doors beckoned, mahogany and steel grinning at him in the assurance they knew more than he did.

Seto snarled and forced the doors open, wrapping the chill, icy calm of a commander about his shoulders.

Ignored the voice humming in the back of his skull.

_weak _

_weak _

_weak

* * *

_

The phone rang. He listened, waiting for someone to pick it up on the other end, waiting for the deep voice of his lover or the light tenor of his brother.

It still rang, echoing across the planes of technology that warped space.

Just before he hung up, someone picked up. "Hello?" It was Yami's voice.

Seto smirked a little. "The deal's sealed," he said, his own voice filled with pride and confidence.

There was a pause on the other end, then, "Great job, Nii-sama!"

Seto winced away from the volume, but remained smiling all the same. Had Yami handed over the phone or put it on loudspeaker?

His internal question was answered a moment later when Yami's voice cut in over Mokuba's cheers. "Congratulations, Seto." Yami hesitated before continuing. "Does this mean you'll be home for dinner?"

He paused himself, thinking. After the acceptance of the project, there really wasn't any reason to stay at his office. Any complaints/queries/comments/problems could find him at home or wait until the next day.

A playful note entered his voice. "Depends on what's for dinner."

"Lasagna!" That was Mokuba. "I helped make it."

Seto smiled indulgently, knowing what a mess dinner would look like if that was truly the case. At least it would taste good. "I'll be home," he promised.

There was a click on the other end and he only heard Yami's voice. "Thank you, Seto."

"Give me a half hour. I'll be there."

"See you then."

They both hung up.

Now Seto _knew_ he couldn't miss dinner. _Dammit, Yami's lasagna is more addictive than coffee.

* * *

_

"G'night," Mokuba yawned before trotting up the stairs to go to bed.

"Goodnight," Seto and Yami called after him, lying twisted together on the couch. They had been watching a movie, but with Mokuba gone, the sounds from the TV regulated themselves to ambient background humming.

"How was your day?" Seto asked, tracing the curve of his lover's back slowly.

Yami's eyes were half closed in sleepy pleasure. "Nothing too exciting. No revolutionary discoveries, but plenty of paper shuffling." His amative gaze locked with Seto's for a moment, long enough to perceive some sort of unease. "Is something wrong?"

Seto shook his head slightly, but Yami's violet gaze never wavered. The CEO blinked and looked away.

"What is it?" Yami pressed, pulling Seto a little closer, offering a source of comfort rather than judgment.

"Mokuba." The one word, the one name that had him all twisted up right now, going over every second of the past years, searching for a sign.

Yami frowned. "What about him? I wasn't really going to Mind Crush his teacher."

Seto shook his head again. "That's not it. He –" He stopped himself. He was _not_ going to admit it was possible his brother was seeking a replacement for his affections. "He's grown up so fast." It was true, too. Mokuba _had_ grown and matured remarkably swiftly in the past year or so. But that wasn't what was really bothering him.

Yami didn't seem to catch it though. He nodded seriously and said, "He is, but don't worry. Even when he's fully grown, he'll need some form of support. You'll always be his Nii-sama."

Seto nodded, accepting that as the given fact, but still, a nagging doubt wormed its way into his sense, chiding him. The same voice that had interfered with his head earlier that morning, now doing more than simply planting doubt.

_weakweak _it chanted.

_weakWeakWEAK!_

* * *

Author's Note: Another hard chapter. But I got it done, and what's more, I got the Interlude written too, so that should be up shortly. Just have to type it out... Hearts all around and thanks to beta **Lightning Sage.**

--Mokuba's growing up! And teens are often a little more touchy around their family. Yami isn't technically family, so I'm letting him be the one Mokie's comfortable with for now.  
--Yami's lasagna is a long standing joke. I forget how and why it started.


	7. Interlude

**Disclaimer:** Legal stuff in previous chapters. I'm too lazy to rewrite it.  
**Warnings:** First person POV, present tense. (AKA not my strong suit.) Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

When he came home trembling, there was blind panic in his eyes. Not for long, because he is a master at controlling his expressions. Just long enough to make me worry.

I didn't mention it. We ate dinner. The dish looked awful, but it always does when Mokuba offers to help. He'll never make a chef, but his heart is in the right place. At least the food doesn't taste as bad as it looks. Seto has accused me of spiking it with something. I take that to mean he enjoys it.

But still, he is more tense than usual. His precious project is finished and accepted, so I can't imagine what it is that is bothering him. He doesn't care to share his emotional state or his thoughts, which makes communication...difficult.

When Mokuba receives permission to watch a movie on a school night, I know there is something more going on in his head. He always wears the combative, self-destructive part of his personality close, but tonight it is suffocating him.

His eyes don't watch the screen at all, focused instead on the back of Mokuba's head. I know how intense his gaze is, and wonder that his brother cannot feel those blue eyes burning into the back of his skull.

When the clock behind the couch chimes at ten, Seto stirs, moving like a man in a dream. I am worried for him. He is never this far removed from his surroundings. I call goodnight to Mokuba, my voice in time with Seto's.

That at least alleviates some of my worry. Seto acknowledged his little brother for the first time since he got back home today.

We lay, limbs entwined, on the couch, not speaking for a while. I can feel his heart beating in a slow, steady rhythm. His breathing does not match his heartbeat. Erratic, frantic, even.

He stops breathing altogether when he meets my eyes. His voice struggles to be nonchalant even as his hand strokes my back. I resist the urge to purr.

"How was your day?"

_My_ day? I want to ask how _his_ was, and why he seems so keen to find out what I've been doing. He never was that interested before. I know it's only a distraction – for me, for him, who knows? Both ways, _any_ way, I answer him.

"Nothing too exciting. No revolutionary discoveries, but plenty of paper shuffling." As if he doesn't get enough of _that_ at his own office.

He's uneasy again, tense to the point where he's out of synch with the rest of the world, a harp string tuned too high.

"Is something wrong?" It's the worst way to ask, and I know it, but gods be cursed - I don't _know_ any other way!

I see his shields go up, defending. Something _is_ wrong then.

"What is it?" I try to sound inviting and capable even as I gather his unresisting form into my arms. Yuugi is better at this than I am. Emotions have always been difficult to deal with, but Seto's seem to spawn new levels of careful treading.

When he won't meet my eyes, I don't press it. Perhaps I have gone too far already, demanding to know what he considers to be private. He is difficult to deal with.

"Mokuba."

The admission startles me. _Mokuba?_ "What about him?" I think quickly to this morning. Did Seto believe I would really do that? "I wasn't going to really MindCrush his teacher," I put in hastily.

But he shakes his head. "That's not it."

I have the feeling Seto might actually tell me something for once.

"He – " There's a pause and a flicker of _something_ in the depths of those blue eyes. I guess the moment's gone, because Seto's flat, don't-bother-me-now voice continues with, "He's grown up so fast."

That was _not_ what he had been about to say. I know it from the faint glimmer of panic still sealed in his eyes and the too-tight grip he has on the blanket wrapped around him.

I let it pass. It is true – Mokuba _is_ growing up fast. A little too fast, perhaps, for his brother's comfort. Maybe though, the addition of years and experience are beginning to show Seto a picture he doesn't much care for.

"He is, but don't worry. Even when he's fully grown, he'll need some form of support." Seto doesn't seem convinced so I tack on another red ribbon. "You'll always be his Nii-sama."

He nods, but his eyes tell me he isn't with me anymore. Despite his physical presence, Seto's mind, I know, is away, looking through things he never wanted to deal with. I can only hope that whatever he finds, I will be able to help him cope.

Protecting Yuugi when we shared a body was so much easier. Sharing a mind certainly made it simpler to keep track of his problems. Sharing a mind with Seto doesn't have the same appeal though. I believe I would survive only a few hours of his brain's random though processes before I went insane.

Think of Yuugi though…

**/Yami?/ **

**/Aibiou?/** I confess myself astonished. I don't think he's ever been able to reach such a great distance before.

There was something in his mind voice as he tiredly said, **/I'm coming home soon./ **

**/I cannot wait to see you again, Aibou./ **

**/It hasn't been _that_ long!/ **

**/Perhaps not./** Should I tell him? His next question renders the point moot.

**/What's wrong? You're leaking emotional distress all over the link./ **

Am I?

**/My apologies. Seto – or perhaps, more correctly, Seto's _emotions_ – are being one big snakebite in the posterior./ **

Yuugi chuckles a bit. His laugh is yellow and comforting.

**/If you need my help when I get back, I'll do what I can/** he promises.

**/When are you coming back?/** I can feel the strain his mind is taking from this. Just this question and I will let him go.

**/Five weeks. Yami, my head – /**

**/Yes, Aibou. I'm astounded you did this at all. Now rest. Call if you have to./ **

The link closes, a ghost of 'thank you' floating over it into my mind.

Yes, Aibou, and thank you.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I typed up Interlude and had it all set to go, but somehow instead I ended up doing a double post of Chapter 6. Thank you very much to PaladinDragon who pointed it out to me. And beta **Lightning Sage.**


	8. Homecoming

**Disclaimer:** Legal stuff in previous chapters. I'm too lazy to rewrite it.  
**Warnings:** Language, early hours, copious amounts of Yuugi-tachi. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

Seto woke up to the peculiar sensation of being the only one in the bed. A warm hollow next to him told him Yami had probably just gotten up. _Why_ was another matter entirely. If his internal clock was correct, it was _maybe_ 5:30 in the morning. On a Saturday.

A shape appeared beside his side of the bed. Seto glared. "How long have you been up?" he asked, blinking a few times. Yami was fully dressed and looking entirely too awake for the time of day. "More to the point – why the hell _are_ you up?" the CEO inquired, biting back a yawn.

"Yuugi comes home today," his lover answered him, a faint smile tingeing his lips.

Seto rolled over so he was facedown in pillows. _He woke up at __five thirty__ in the morning on a Saturday because Yuugi's coming home today? He must have missed him more than I thought._

"Do I have to wake up now too?" he asked, not bothering to turn over, so his words were slightly muffled by the press of pillows.

"You don't have to," Yami replied, a touch of reproach in his voice, "but it would be nice if you did."

The young CEO sighed and rolled over again, throwing an arm across his eyes to block out any light. "What time will he be here?"

"Around one."

"Forget it, then. I'm going back to sleep. It doesn't take me _that_ long to get dressed."

Yami chuckled somewhere in the background.

_I'm going to figure out some way to get him back for this,_ Seto decided, slipping back across the border of reality and dreams.

* * *

Moments later – or hours, depending if one went by the feeling or the clock – Seto woke up again, yawning. The bed space next to him was still empty.

_Hn. Guess he really did stay awake then._ The CEO levered himself out of bed. Clothing. What was he going to wear? Casting his eyes towards the closet, Seto was slightly shocked to find a suit already laid out for him with a note lying on top.

Frowning, he picked up the pale blue paper to read Yami's slightly choppy handwriting.

_Seto, I went with Yuugi-tachi to pick him up from the airport. I'll be home around __noon__, hopefully, maybe as late as one, if we get held up. I took the liberty of pulling this suit out for you. It looks delicious on you. No, don't scowl at me. _(Seto _was_ scowling.)_ Just put it on, make nice for about an hour and then you can escape. By the way, there's muffins downstairs, assuming Mokuba hasn't devoured them all yet. I made a batch this morning. Sorry about waking you up so early.  
--Yami_

Seto considered the suit. It wasn't quite eight yet, so he didn't need to wear the thing until later. And muffins…

He hurried down the stares in a robe, hoping to beat out Mokuba for a chance at the chocolate chip ones. Yami's muffins were deadly sinful…

* * *

"How ya makin' out wit Kaiba?" Jou asked. Currently, he, Yami, Honda and Anzu were all stuffed into Mai's car. The blonde woman was driving taking directions from Anzu, who'd been lucky enough to get the other front seat. The young men were all smooshed together in the back.

Yami's eyes narrowed. "Depends on you definition of 'making out'," he answered lightly.

Jou coughed violently, turning beet red. "That wasn't what I meant!" he exclaimed when his choking spasm had run its course.

His protest was met by a smirking set of violet eyes. Then Yami took pity on his blond friend and began to tell him about the past few non-adventurous months. Except for the question of adoption, really not much _had_ been going on.

"Wait a minute –" Honda interrupted. "_Mokuba_ asked _Kaiba_ for a _brother_?'

"That's what I said," Yami confirmed, half-amused by the stunned look sitting on Honda's face, half-mellowed by his own stipulations and concerns regarding the request.

"Kaiba said no, right?" Jou asked, his accent heavier than ever.

Yami shook his head. Anzu, who had just 'dropped in' on the conversation, looked rather horrified. "He's getting Mokuba a new _brother?_"

The ex-spirit sighed. All concerns aside, this was becoming annoying. He opened his mouth to confirm when Mai made a tight turn off the freeway. Yami, Honda and Jou all squished into half the space they'd previously occupied.

"What was that for?" Jou gasped, pushing Yami off him.

"Sorry boys," Mai said, in a voice that implied she wasn't very sorry at all. "I almost missed the exit." She paused, her big blue eyes looking at the tangled trio in the rearview mirror. "Don't be getting too comfortable back there."

Honda snorted, Yami smirked and Jou looked like he was trying to fold in on himself. Anzu seemed to be smothering a chuckle on the blond's behalf, but Mai was outright laughing. Slowly Jou's disgruntled look melted off his face.

* * *

"Would you stop fidgeting already?" Honda asked, sounding annoyed. "I'm sure he's fine."

For the past ten minutes or so, Yami had been all but plastered against the window of the airport, watching for Yuugi's flight to finally come in. He'd tried to link with his other half, but so far had been unsuccessful. That could mean one of three things – Yuugi was unconscious, out of range or had deliberately closed the link. Out of range seemed rather unlikely, especially considering the cross-continental reach Yuugi had displayed the last time they'd spoken. And his hikari had only purposely shut him out a handful of times… He continued to fret, oblivious to the attempts from the rest to calm him.

_Finally_ the plane landed and came up to the terminal walkway. Yami watched, trying to link with his hikari. Still no connection. He began to panic until a crazy spiked mop of hair in three colors emerged from the terminal door.

Yuugi had grown since he'd last seen him. The two of them were at least matched in height – maybe his light even had a little height over him. His wild hair was just as Yami remembered it, as were the punk-style clothes the younger duelist wore.

His hikari saw them all and sprinted over, nearly toppling a couple of people in the process. His arms wrapped around Yami's neck as he flung himself forward. Yami only barely managed to keep from flying backward, but inside he was just as enthusiastic.

Then the rest of Yuugi-tachi crowded around, making an awful fuss over Yuugi and asking how he'd been, what college was like – all that nonsense.

The ex-spirit drifted back slightly from them, watching in half-depressed amusement as the friends he had come to love devoured his aibou, peppering him alternately with affection and demands.

Suddenly, Yami's attention snapped away from the group and his violet eyes narrowed. A pale, well-dressed stranger was cautiously headed toward the group. His silky, well-groomed self reminded Yami forcefully of Seto, but the hesitant movements stank of Ryou Bakura.

The young man paused, catching Yami's dark look. Yuugi also apparently caught the direction of Yami's gaze because he managed to disentangle himself from Anzu – no mean feat – and work his way out of the general cluster. Once out he strode over to the young man and amiably wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

The mind link clicked open.

Immediately Yami made use of it. **/Aibou, who is that?/** he questioned, trying and failing to keep his mind voice neutral.

Yuugi's mental voice as he replied had something of a forced laugh to it. **/This? This is Andre. He's part French./ **

**/Why is he with you?/** Yami inquired, and the rest of the gang's rather stunned expressions led him to believe they were all wondering the same thing.

His hikari's mind voice felt a little shy. **/Well, we, uh – that is to say we… How do I put this?/ **

"Who's this, Yuug?" Jou asked, breaking the silence and interrupting the mental dialogue.

"Uh, this is Andre," Yuugi introduced. "He's – " His entire demeanor seemed to become a little more meek. "He's my boyfriend," the young man managed to get out.

Andre settled a little closer to Yuugi, one arm straying protectively around the other's waist. They were of a height, if one counted the very tips of Yuugi's hair, which was level with the top of Andre's head.

**/He's a little short, Aibou/** Yami commented dryly, still appraising the newcomer.

**/For what?/** Yuugi shot back defensively. **/We don't _all_ want to be the same height as our lover's crotch, Yami!/** A brief pause in which Yami's eyebrows decided to nest in his hair, then softly, **/I didn't mean it that way./ **

Yami shook off the surprise. **/I always knew someday you'd begin to talk back/** he teased. **/So, how's it feel?/**

**/Rather odd/** the younger duelist admitted. **/I still feel like a little kid when you're around. It was easy to get used to you protecting me./ **

Yami worked his way back into the enthusiastic knot of his light's friends, all of whom were now greeting Andre. The poor young man seemed rather overwhelmed. Then his eyes locked with Yami's again, just as the ex-spirit reached the middle of the throng. He paled a trifle and shot a glance towards Yuugi.

**/Aibou, is he really afraid of me, or is it just because we look so much alike?/** Patient confusion.

**/Um, I'm not sure. I don't _think_ he'd be afraid./** A pause. **/Come say hello./**

"Welcome," Yami intoned in his deep voice.

Andre's pale skin threatened to go transparent if he took a single step closer. Yami stopped, regarding the young man with unveiled curiosity. Yuugi finally broke the tension.

"Andre, this is Yami," he said formally. "Yami's – oh, gods… I don't know how to explain it," he confessed, running a hand through his hair. "He's as close to being my soul mate as anyone wants to get."

"I'm also dating Seto," Yami put in when the fear was replaced by an insane jealousy. The jealousy eased slightly, but did not vanish. Yuugi didn't seem to notice.

"It's great to be home," the young man commented, looking Yami full in the face for the first time.

His blood ran cold when their eyes met. Yuugi's once-violet purple eyes now shone with the same vicious crimson as newborn flames.

Or freshly spilled blood.

* * *

Author's Note: Well this is my first Yami-centric chapter that doesn't do much with Seto at all. I'm not all that comfortable writing as Yami, but I hope it worked out here. Thankies **LightningSage** for beta.

--Yami's handwriting I imagined to be a little choppy because of the way cunieform (a simplified, everyday version of hieroglyphics) was written. So, there's some random trivia for you.  
--Muffins seem to take a big hold of my story at times. I'll admit, the Yami Muffin idea actually came from an artist on DeviantArt by the name of -Bayleef. There's a bunch of pictures of a Yami chibi she named Crack!Chibi (now Chyami) who hangs out with muffins, plants muffin trees... That sort of thing. I couldn't resist. And if it seems that Yami's a brilliant cook at everything, just don't ask for French toast.  
--I know I asked before for any college in Japan for Yuugi to attend, but then I figured if I wanted an airport scene, it'd be more fun to have him coming from a LONG ways away. So, I stuck Yuugi in America and found him a French (half-French) boyfriend.  
--Andre's physical description in my head seems to closely match Ziegfried, though I'm not sure why. Just take the pink-haired, rose-obsessed game freak and shorten him up. Voila! Instant Andre.


	9. From 5:30

**Disclaimer:** Legal stuff in previous chapters. I'm too lazy to rewrite it.  
**Warnings:** Mild language, muffins, Mutt-ness. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

"But Nii-_sama!_" wailed Mokuba. 

Seto growled, digging his fingers in.

"_Nooooooooooo!"_

The last chocolate chip muffin splintered into pieces, littering crumbs across the floor. Seto had a handful of it, squished up and looking decidedly un-muffinlike.

"You know, the last one was _supposed_ to be mine," Mokuba pouted, his voice a tingling mix of squashed laughter and faux-forlorn sorrow.

"It should have been if we went by today's count," Seto agreed, regarding the crushed treat. "But if you can remember, _last_ time Yami made muffins, _you_ ate the last one."

"But I left you all the blueberry ones," Mokuba argued in between devouring bites of his half of squashed muffin.

Seto watched. "That's disgusting." Then he brought _his_ half up to his mouth and ate it.

* * *

It was almost noon. Seto was up in his room again, carefully tying his tie and adjusting it to perfection. The man staring back from the mirror didn't look like the world's youngest CEO, he decided after careful scrutiny. Instead, he looked rather like someone's significant other, politely requested to dress up for a meeting. 

Seto sighed and checked his watch. 11:58. Why did time pass so slowly? Would Yami even be _home_ at noon? His note had said he'd hoped to be, but that _morning _he'd said it'd be around one…

_Better to be prepared an hour early and have to wait than not be ready at all when they show up by surprise._

11:59. Why was time so damn slow?

* * *

He'd finally settled down and was reading on the couch when he heard the door open. Without paying any attention to the book he'd been reading, he tossed it aside, completely disregarding its feelings on the matter. 

"Seto?" That was Yami's voice. There was some shuffling of feet and muffled voices. Yami must have brought the rest of them home as well.

"I'm here," he called back, walking with swift, though measured steps towards the entryway. But not running. CEOs did _not_ run.

He appeared near the entryway, catching sight of Yami and the rest. He recognized all but one of them, the one being a peculiar rose-haired boy standing attentively next to Yuugi. His lip cured into a smirk when Katsuya – unaffectionately known to him as the Mutt – brushed up against Mai by accident and blushed an absurd shade of scarlet.

Yuugi looked up and caught sight of him. The little squirt waved and extracted himself from the group, coing closer. Seto noticed one thing in particular, and that was how the duelist had grown. Yuugi might always have been shrimp-like and short (and probably always would be by his standards), but whatever they fed him in America must have triggered a set of forgotten hormones. There was a wiry toughness under that exterior, nearly a match for Yami. The catlike grace he moved with – _that_ was like Yami as well.

His eyes narrowed.

"Sorry to barge in like this," the shorter duelist apologized. "I asked Mai to drop us off at the Game Shop, but Yami insisted we come here, so…" He shrugged.

Seto caught Yami watching the both of them. He cleared his throat, making the Mutt jump in surprise. All the others refocused their attention on him as well.

"Why don't you move the party out of the foyer and into the living room?" he suggested in a neutral voice.

Mai was the first one to take him up on that, nodding appreciatively as she passed him. The Mutt followed her, then the one with ridiculous hair, then Mazaki, Yuugi and the pink-haired freak and lastly Yami, who paused to give him a tight smile. It was both _thank you_ and _I'm sorry _rolled into one. Seto nodded. Then Yami disappeared into the living room too and Seto steeled himself to go in and intermingle with his greatest rival and the punk's – friends. Comrades. Groupies.

Nobly, he refrained from wincing, seeing the Mutt sprawled across the leather armchair that was _his_ favorite. The others had also found spots for themselves, dotted about the room like so many multi-colored bugs.

Yami's arm looped into his. When had the other come up to him?

"Just play nice," Yami whispered to him. "Please," he added, and Seto's iron will crumbled.

_Damn._ "Fine," he softly answered.

"Does anyone want anything to drink?" Yami asked, catching everyone's attention.

"Do you have lemonade?" That was Mazaki, perking up considerably at the mention of drinks.

Yami nodded. "We have lemonade, water, diet coke, iced tea and orange juice," the ex-spirit recited, ticking them off on his fingers.

_I don't think _I_ knew we had all that,_ Seto thought dazedly.

The others placed orders and Mazaki got up to help pass the drinks out. Seto shooed her back to her seat, taking the opportunity to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of helping Yami. The ex-spirit was pouring the different liquids into cups. He looked up when Seto slipped in.

"Do you need help?" The CEO asked.

Yami jerked his head towards a set of cups filled with orange juice. "Those are for Mai and Honda," he said. "I'll bright out these."

"There's six of those," Seto stated patiently. "You take four, I'll take four. Who do these go to?" He indicated the teas.

"Yuugi and Andre."

He nodded and scoped up the two extra drinks to bring out. Was it his imagination or did the one with Yuugi bristle as he handed over the tea? Yuugi thanked him politely. So did Mai when he gave her hers. Hiroto seemed to be sulking. He took his orange juice from Seto without comment.

Seto contemplated returning to the kitchen, but then Yami appeared, bearing drinks. His lover passed them out, then disappeared back into the kitchen, emerging moments later with a small platter of food.

The Mutt's eyes went wide. Seto snorted at the expression on his face. There was minimal chatter while the eight – Seto included – indulged in mini cheese cubes, crackers and grapes.

"When did you make all this," he murmured to Yami.

His lover smiled tiredly. " Five thirty in the morning."

* * *

"So then the _economics_ professor began ranting, and we figured we'd all save our eardrums," Yuugi finished. "So, we weren't _really_ cutting class, Yami. It was self-preservation." 

Seto snorted. Everyone focused on him. "The _smart_ thing to have done would have been to stay and help with the cleanup. It's easier to pull the guilt card to get what you want that way."

The Mutt looked askance at the idea. "Trust Rich Boy ta know," he commented.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean, Mutt?" he snarled back.

Yami interceded before it could get messy. "Probably not the best idea, Yuugi," the ex-spirit interrupted before Jou could shoot a comeback at Seto.

Seto watched Yuugi shrink a little under that hard violet gaze. The young punk's eyes glowed with the scarlet contacts. Privately, he thought the change of eye color was a smart move, but Yami – who'd had quite the surprise from it, according to Yuugi – didn't seem to be quite as pleased. Not to say he wasn't supportive, but Seto caught a distinct vibe of – unease – whenever Yami looked at the young man's eyes. He vaguely wondered why.

"But he didn't even _notice!_" Yuugi protested, his voice climbing into the high range it had inhabited when they all had been in high school.

He winced away from the half-shriek. _I'd forgotten how high his voice can get,_ he thought in annoyance. _The shrimp sounds like he's being sat on._ He stood up violently. Yami looked up.

"Wha – ?"

"I'm getting something to drink," Seto interrupted, ignoring the fact that his own glass was still untouched. He stalked out of the living room into the kitchen, planning to stay there for the duration of the stay of Yuugi-tachi.

_Sorry Yami. Even I can't put up with them forever.

* * *

_

"Is it safe to come out?" Seto asked, moving slowly out into the living room. Yami was stretched across the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes in a position highly reminiscent of Seto's own pose early that morning.

The ex-spirit chuckled dryly. "Yes, Seto. They're gone."

"And thank god for that," he said, coming around to sit on _his_ leather armchair. Frowning, he lifted a couple of blond strands from the precious leather. "The Mutt's shedding," he growled. "That's the _last_ time I let the dog on the furniture."

"Seto." Yami's voice was deep in warning. Seto knew his lover didn't like it when he called Katusya "Mutt." Or when he insulted any of the gang, though the Mutt – uh, Katsuya – was by far the easiest to bait.

He held up the strands of hair. "I don't want him molting on _my_ chair," the CEO argued.

Yami, who hadn't looked up and hadn't seen the strands in Seto's hand, sighed and rolled over.

Seto guessed his lover was settling in for a nap. Heck, after getting up at five thirty to do everything he'd done, he deserved one. So, instead of sticking around, Seto snuck upstairs being as quiet as possible.

_I wonder when Mokuba's coming home_, he thought idly. His younger brother had requested that he be allowed to spend the night at a friend's house and Seto had reluctantly agreed. Vaguely he wondered how the night had gone.

With that wonder came another. It had been quite a while since the adoption question and neither of them had really mentioned it since. Did he still want to go through with this?

Part of Seto was convinced Mokuba only wanted a brother to alleviate loneliness, but friends could do the same, then why bother?

_I'll need to talk with him about this,_ Seto decided. _Yami too. If were' a family, we may as well start acting like one again._

* * *

Author's Note: If I ever finish this, maybe I'll go into detail about Yuugi's life in America. Someone remind me when this is over, and I'll do a oneshot on it...or something. I think it would be fun to explore that aspect. 

--Seto's leather armchair is based off one I have at home that reclines. I love it to death, and I'm just as posessive as Seto about it.  
--The muffins... Well, see, there's this DeviantArt artist by the name of Bayleef who draws chibi Yamis and... The muffins come from there. Crack!Chibi rules. I forget if I mentioned Leef in earlier chapters...


	10. Family Again

**Disclaimer:** Legal stuff in previous chapters. I'm too lazy to rewrite it.  
**Warnings:** Slight OCness, Seto cooking. Implied Seto/Yami.

* * *

Mokuba was already downstairs when he got up. Yami was still asleep – why couldn't his brother have been as well? He turned on the coffee pot, waiting for a suitable cup to brew while he watched Mokuba devour a bowl of Cheerios. Why was this so hard? 

Speaking in general was never difficult. He barked at employees, circle-spoke board members, gave speeches – so where were the words he needed to connect with his brother?

Oblivious to Seto's inner battle, Mokuba polished off the last of his cereal. Only then, did the teen look up and see him. Seto supposed Mokuba was surprised to see him, if only a little Well, he _did_ know how to move quietly.

"Morning," Mokuba greeted, a tad too enthusiastic.

He nodded a response, still tongue-tied as to the best way to begin this. In the end, Seto retrieved his morning cup of coffee and stared into the liquid until Mokuba's voice woke him from his stupor.

"Nii-sama?" Mokuba was waving hand in front of his face. "Is there something wrong?"

_If anyone else asked me that, I wouldn't bother answering,_ Seto mused. To Mokuba though… "I think we need to talk." Damn, but the way he said it made him sound like a disapproving parent.

Apparently, Mokuba thought so as well because he frowned. "What about?"

"Do you remembering asking me for a brother?" He was half-hoping Mokuba wouldn't and that his whole worry was completely unfounded.

The black-haired teen nodded slowly. "Did something happen?" he asked seriously.

Seto shook his head as Yami wandered in. "I just wanted to know if you still wanted to go through with it," he said, rather lamely in his own opinion.

Mokuba looked slightly uneasy.

"Go through with what?" Yami inquired. He was leaning against the kitchen countertop, his hair wet and hanging down for the most part, except for those crazy blond bangs, which stubbornly refused to obey gravity.

"Nii-sama wanted to know if I still wanted a younger brother," Mokuba put in quickly. "And I do," the teen added, casting a wary glance Seto's way.

He blinked and looked down. _I should have expected it. He is as much a Kaiba as I am, no matter how different he may seem to others._ So why did an icy cold descend over him when he thought about it?

He could feel Yami's eyes burning into him and looked up to meet that violet gaze. _What do you want me to do?_ He wanted to ask, to yell. Breeding – rearing – always won out. He was a Kaiba as much as Mokuba; there was no asking for help

Instead, Seto nodded briefly. He opened his mouth to speak, willing his voice not to crack, not to display any sort of emotion whatsoever. "I have an appointment on the thirteenth of July to visit the orphanage," he told both sets of eyes, one blue-grey, one violet. To his own ears, his voice sounded deadpan.

The kitchen echoed silence.

"Are we going together?" his brother asked.

Seto nodded. "The three of us," he added. "It's a Friday so you don't have to miss work, Yami."

"What about school?" Yami asked, coming forward to sit down at the table.

Seto shrugged. "I'll call in for Mokuba. He can take it as a sick day. It's not like he'll fall behind – right?"

The teen snorted. "I could teach some of those classes."

He nodded. "Good. Then in three weeks, we can go."

* * *

_'In three weeks we can go'. Damn. If only calendars and schedules couldn't be influenced by so many random occurrences._

In the past two days, Mokuba had developed a particularly violent strain of mononucleosis. Seto had taken him to the hospital, and the doctors were quite adamant about non-activity at least for a few weeks. Unfortunately, Seto could not reschedule the projects lumped around the 13th, and Mokuba had expressly asked him _not_ to put it off until October – which was when he was next free.

He still could have gone with Yami, except the ex-spirit's job hours had shifted to compensate for a sick friend and he no longer _had_ Fridays free.

_I don't want to do this alone,_ he realized, slowly making his way up the stairs towards Mokuba's bedroom. He had considered canceling, or even dragging Mokuba down there despite the doctor's orders. He couldn't, though.

Gently Seto knocked on Mokuba's door.

"Yeah?" The voice that answered him was weak and _sounded_ sick, not like his brother's strong, self-assured voice at all.

He pushed the door open. Mokuba was still in his PJ's despite it being almost noon. "You feeling better?" he asked, walking over to the teen's bedside.

Mokuba grimaced. "I don't like being sick. I wish I could go."

He nodded.

Mokuba glared at him. "You _are_ going, aren't you?" the teen demanded, sounding more like his old self.

Again, Seto nodded.

His brother sighed and sank back into the pillows. "Just make sure it's someone like us," he said softly.

_How will I know? _

Mokuba answered his silent question. "It'll be in his eyes; it's the look of someone with nothing left to lose. A broken-winged bird. You'll know." He smiled shakily up at Seto. "I'm tired again," the young teen whispered.

Seto nodded, backing up out of the room while his brother sank into sleep again. It was nearly time to go, then.

He made a quick trip to his home office and phoned the orphanage. The receptionist seemed appalled at his stoic demeanor, and kept insisting he stay longer than his proposed fifteen minutes.

"Fifteen is all I'll need," he said again, and this time when she began to protest, he simply hung up.

* * *

Going back in the gates was possibly the hardest moment of his life. He'd thought he'd been freed of the place once and for all when he and Mokuba had left. _Old habits die hard_, he thought cynically. It was still difficult to keep from shrinking away from the iron fence. 

The next fifteen minutes were packed with movement. At the end, he was left with a small, dark-haired boy, staring out of wide eyes the same charcoal black of the iron fence they were leaving behind.

Seto gazed carelessly out the window as the limo pulled away. After a tense moment of silence, he looked back to the boy. "What's your name?" He figured he ought to know.

"Natsuki," the boy whispered, looking down, away from the bright blue eyes.

_Hope. It's fitting.

* * *

_

Introductions would have to wait until dinner Seto decided. Until then… He was rather at a loss as to what to do with this child. Could he expect any amount of self-sufficiency from him? Quickly the CEP tried to think back to when he and Mokuba had first come here. How self-sufficient had _they_ been at the start? No matter how he pummeled his poor brain, it simply did not feel like rewarding him with an answer to that.

Belatedly, he realized the boy was still watching him and the silence was lengthening to an uncomfortable level.

_What does he need to know? A room… He needs a room._

"Follow me," he commanded, a bit imperiously. Seto led the boy up the major staircase, down to the hallway that contained the majority of guest rooms.

"Go ahead – pick one," he urged when the strange boy did nothing at first but watch him. Gods, but those _eyes._ They were near dead.

He shivered as the child walked slowly by him to peer into each room, finally selecting one decorated with surgical precision of an operating room.

_Is that what we might have been?

* * *

_

Dinner came. Seto had prepared the meal himself, taking special care to make it look presentable. He was glad he had time to get everything ready. He'd discovered – purely by accident – that he could cook. Now, Seto know and accepted that he was no culinary genius and also that he couldn't prepare half the exotic dishes Yami could, but with a solid recipe and time, he could create a perfectly acceptable family dinner.

The setup was proving slightly tricky, however. He was _used_ to three place settings and having four threw off where all the actual plates of food went. No longer did the table seem to resemble a well-played duel disk in Seto's mind. Instead it seemed to be in complete disarray, which irked him to no end.

Yami came home halfway through his quest to make the table look presentable.

"Stupid, fucking, _round_ plates!" Seto growled, staring at the table.

"Uh, Seto? What exactly are you _doing?"_

Seto spun around to see Yami watching him with a strange expression on his face. He said nothing to the violet-eyed duelist, simply turning back around to prod the vegetable dish slightly to the left. It _still_ didn't look right, but –

"Nii-sama?"

He looked up to see Mokuba, dressed at last, brushing sleep out of blue-grey eyes.

"Nii-sama – " Mokuba seemed hesitant, peering around the kitchen. "Where is he?"

Seto didn't have to ask who his brother was talking about. "Right behind you."

Mokuba turned.

The two boys came face-to-face for the first time. Somehow Seto had expected something huge to happen. Instead, they simply looked at each other, staring until Seto's own eyes hurt from their lack of blinking.

"Mokuba, this is Natsuki. Natsuki, this is my brother Mokuba." Yami moved up beside him. "And this is my boyfriend, Yami Mutou." He said it as a dare, waiting for something – rejection of the implication or…something.

The boy didn't look like the revelation startled him one way or another. He didn't say anything but bowed politely to both Mokuba and Yami.

Dinner was a quiet affair, and afterwards Mokuba tottered upstairs, followed closely by Natsuki. Yami and Seto watched them disappear then chose to retire as well. Seto made a quick stop in Mokuba's room first.

"Nii-sama?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you. I feel like we have a chance to be a family again. A real one, I mean."

_Family. Again._

* * *

Author's Note: I'm considering just calling this chapter fini, but that's only because I have some other projects I'd like to work on and they won't get done if I keep on with this. I'll admit it's been addicting to say the least. On the list of other things to do is certainly get a sequel up for this. Ideas are welcome... Or, I could just continue this, but it would be put on hold until after I got up a sequel I've been promising my _Time Travel_ readers. Either way it's a wait... 

--I know things don't quite match up between this and BWB, but that's to be expected. I think it's the first time I've ever heard of someone writing a full fic from a oneshot inspiration.  
--For anyone who hasn't read BWB, 'Natsuki' means hope in Japanese. It seemed...suitable.  
--So, OWARI or NOT?


End file.
